


What Trained Assassins Do and Don't Do

by reynabethh



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabethh/pseuds/reynabethh
Summary: Dick is tired from over-working and not having enough time to spend with his family. When a creepy stranger addresses him at a Wayne gala and speaks to Damian in the wrong way, his tiredness turns to anger and he leaves the manor to stay at an old safehouse for a couple of days.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, implied Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 150





	What Trained Assassins Do and Don't Do

**Author's Note:**

> None of the Archive Warnings apply to this fic but be warned that it is generally very creepy.

It was late. He was tired, despite normally staying up even later than this. Dick was tired after a long mission with the titans, where his relationship with Wally was stiff. All he wanted to do was go to a safehouse and disappear for a week. Maybe he’d stay in contact with Bruce to make sure he remembered to feed Damian when necessary. 

Unfortunately, he was stuck at a gala listening to Damian whine. “Is it almost over?” “Can I use your phone?” “I don’t understand why I have to be here” “Why couldn’t I bring my sword?” 

The last one was self-evident, and he knew the kid only asked him to get on his nerves.

Dick couldn’t blame him. He felt like whining the exact same questions at Bruce. “Look, Damian, I agreed to come here for one reason. I told Bruce you could sit with me, so you wouldn’t have to talk to all the people that Bruce is talking to, but the public would still see your face. I saved you from a worse fate. So you can shut up and sit. It’s just for one night, I think you’ve survived a lot worse.”

“No, I think this is the worst.” 

Dick raised his eyebrows. Damian huffed, crossed his arms, and stared angrily at the floor. He smiled as he did so. Damian was acting himself, and he was glad to be spending time with him, even though it was at a gala. 

He scanned the crowd, making sure no one looked like they wanted to talk to him or his brother. His eyes widened when he saw a man around Bruce’s age walking towards them. He nudged Damian and grunted “smile” through his teeth. The boy glared at him. Dick rolled his eyes. 

It was too late. The man arrived at their table. He looked in good shape and certainly wasn’t… unattractive. Not that he cared to notice his level of attractiveness. 

Maybe he did care, though. Sue him, he was bored out of his mind. He was allowed to notice if a man was attractive.

“Mr. Grayson,” Dick stood up to shook his hand. Damian glared at both of them. The man continued, “It’s rare to see you at one of Mr. Wayne’s Gala’s. What brings you to this one?”

Great. Apparently he was expected to know who this man was and what to say to him. And what the fuck was wrong with Damian? He knew how important it was to keep up the image. Why was he acting like this? 

Dick put on a wide smile for the man. “Well, I didn’t want Bruce to keep having all the fun without me.” He sat back down, offering the man a seat. He took it, moving the chair so that he was facing both of them

“Hmm, well you certainly don’t look like you’re having any fun.” Dick was at a loss for words. That line always worked. Why couldn’t it work one more time, when he was tired and needed it to? 

The man turned his attention to Damian. “You look bored. Maybe this will motivate you to get through the evening.” He opened his briefcase and took out a video game, then handed it to him. “I hear it’s popular with many young men.”

Damian looked at Dick. He nodded at him, feeling a bit tense and hoping Damian had it in him to say thank you. 

“Thank you.” Damian said, before going back to staring angrily at the floor. 

Dick let out a sigh of relief. The man looked back at him, and Dick made the decision that he and Damian were going to leave the gala as soon as this man left them alone, consequences be damned. “Well, Richard, if you would like to have some fun, you should join me in the men’s room in a couple of minutes.” 

He clenched his fists. He could tell Damian was listening, and all he wanted to do was block the kid’s ears. The man, however, kept speaking. “You wouldn’t be gone for long, and Mr. Wayne’s child seems to be preoccupied with his new game… so I think you can take a break from babysitting. I know from experience how awful it is to be forced to watch over spoiled boys.” Thankfully, Damian didn’t kill him upon hearing this, and Dick had enough self control to not crack the table over his head. 

The man stood up again. Before he walked off, Dick spoke. “My name’s actually Dick, what’s yours?” 

The man leaned in uncomfortably close and said “It doesn’t matter. You can call me Daddy, if you like.” Then he walked off, his steps holding way too much confidence. 

Dick couldn’t help it, his cock twitched. 

It didn’t matter though, the rest of him was burning with anger. He tasted bile in his mouth. God, he hoped Damian didn’t hear that. “Come on Damian, we’re leaving.” 

He’d never seen him get up so fast. 

  
  


They walked in silence to the car. About halfway through the ride back to Wayne Manor, Damian asked “What was his name?”

“Hm?” Dick tensed. 

“You asked for the man’s name. I’m assuming he gave it to you, but I didn’t hear.” 

Dick had never been so relieved in his life. “No, he just told me which drugs he was selling. I’ll look into him when we get back.” Before Damian could inform him that he would be helping, he added “and meanwhile, you’re gonna go to bed.”

“No.” 

“Look Damian, it’s just a boring old drug bust, do you actually care enough to help me with this one? Besides, you have that new video game to play.” He teased. 

Damian rolled his eyes, but didn’t make any more comments on what happened at the gala. 

  
  


His name was David James. He had a wife. He had two kids. He had no criminal record, and nothing to be suspicious about. There was no way this guy knew anything about him beyond what was in the media. That was, unless he missed something.

Which was why he handed the case to Tim. 

“Did you find anything?” He asked the next morning, leaning over Tim’s shoulder. 

“No.” Tim said. “Why do you this this guy suspicious, anyway? Because he gave Damian a game? I mean, being nice to Damian is weird, but rich guys are weird in general. I don’t see the big deal.”

“This is serious, Tim.”

“I am serious, Dick.” He turned to face him. “I can’t find anything odd about him. So unless he’s better at hiding stuff than literally every criminal we’ve ever faced, he’s just a normal rich guy being weird.” Tim walked towards the coffee maker they apparently had in the batcave. “I’m Sorry I can’t help you more, but I’m going to the titan tower for the week.”

He sighed. “Don’t worry about it, Timmy. Thanks.”

Maybe he was going insane. Maybe he was making up this whole situation because there wasn’t enough going on in his life. Whatever the case, he grabbed a couple of bottles of Gatorade from the fridge and left for his safehouse. 

Dick hadn’t been to this place in years. That was the main reason he chose to go to it. No one expected him to go there, so it would take longer for people to find him. 

He dumped his stuff on the ground and lay down on the couch. He was able to enjoy a couple of silent moments before he went as still as a rock. 

_ The shower was on _ . Someone was in his safehouse. Moreover, someone had come into his safehouse to take a shower. 

The list of people who knew about the place included Cass and Tim. Not even Bruce knew about it. Since Tim said he was going to the titan tower, it had to be Cass. But she had her own shower at her own place. She didn’t need to come here. 

Before he made the stupid mistake of calling out her name, he found two duffel bags next to the bathroom door. One was filled with guns, the other with cash and some clothing. 

“Shit” he whispered to himself, scrambling to get his escrima sticks out of his bag. 

Dick considered his options: He could ambush the gun trafficker while they were in the shower, or he could wait for them to get out of the shower, giving them time to take out a weapon.

He’d have to go with the first option.

He thanked his past self for never installing a proper lock on the bathroom door. He’d spent so much energy on the security of the place in general that he didn’t have any left in him to worry about the inside. 

The door opened quietly, without squeaking in the slightest. He silently stepped towards the shower and pulled the curtain open in one swift move and--

Dick Grayson had seen a lot of things in his life. However, he had never experienced this level of shock before. He gaped at the man in the shower, unable to attack, unable to retreat, unable to move. 

He’d just pulled open the shower curtain to reveal a naked, wet Deathstroke. He was still wearing his eyepatch. His fair fell down his back, the top of his head was still covered in shampoo. His muscles were perfectly defined. His dick was hard in his hand.

Slade put his hands in the air. “What? Did you think trained assassins don’t masturbate?” 

A squeaking sound came out of Dick’s mouth. It sounded like the sound the bathroom door should have made. He then proceeded to make the dumbest move he’d ever made, and fainted.

  
  


When he came back to consciousness, he was being carried. He was soon deposited on the couch, and Dick realized he was still in his safehouse. 

With Slade Wilson. He now had a pair of jeans on, but he was still shirtless. Dick tried not to look for too long, out of fear that his cock would get hard and the situation would get a hundred times worse. 

“Why are you still here? How did you get in here?” Was the first mix of words that came to mind.

“Too many people want me dead so I gotta lie low. Your second question doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does, do you have any idea how much security there is here?”  _ Shit, _ he shouldn’t have told him that.

“The password to the main door is 364284.” 

Dick frowned. He wasn’t wrong. That was definitely the password. “How the fuck did you know that.” He paused. “And don’t tell me that ‘it doesn’t matter’ because if you do, I will--” He considered his situation. If stood up, he’d probably just faint again. “--My sister will kick your ass so hard you’ll never move again.” 

Slade sat down on the floor next to the couch, so his face was level with Dick’s.  _ Shit, no _ . Now he had to look at him, had to look at his stern, serious face, had to look at his abs and thick his arms. This was a problem since those things made him hard, and this wasn’t a good time for him to be hard. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll cut through the bullshit.” Slade looked him in the eye. “I used to follow you here. I followed you so many times that I memorized the movement of your hands when you wrote in the password.”

“You really had nothing better to do with your free time than  _ that _ ?”

Slade smiled. He actually smiled. Dick had never seen Deathstroke smile before. “You’re pretty, Dick. I’ve always thought so. You’d leave the curtains open while taking your clothes off before getting in the shower. I’d watch you instead of going to a strip club. Then I’d think about it later, when it was my turn to take a shower.”

There was no other way of looking at it -- that was creepy. And yet, he didn’t feel disgusted. He did need to find a way to cover his groin, though. “That’s gross,” he said anyways.

“Hm. I started coming here when I realized you hadn’t been here for a while. It’s a good safehouse. Why’d you come back? You don’t seem to be in good shape. I’ve never seen you pass out like that before.” Slade almost looked concerned.

Dick had no intention of telling this criminal why he was there. However, he thought about the chances of Slade killing him if he refused to talk. Then he wondered why he hadn’t already killed him, but decided it was safer not to ask about that.

He thought about why he shouldn’t tell him. Was there even a reason? Slade already knew all their identities. This wasn’t about a top secret mission, this was about how Dick was tired, needed some peace and quiet, and didn’t want to go to any more galas with men who tried to take him away from Damian. So he decided on saying “I’ve just been stressed lately.”

Slades expression didn’t change. “You’re always stressed. You’re in a stressful line of work. What’s new?”

Dick remarked that he did not threaten to kill him for not giving a complete answer. Through this remark, he realized that there was no reason not to tell him. He wanted to tell him. He had no idea how Slade would respond, but he knew he wouldn’t judge him or get angry at him. He might even understand. “I had a big mission with the titans last week. Wally and I fought for every minute of it. When I got back to Gotham, I had so much to do and the only time I could find to spend with Damian was at one of Bruce’s galas.” He continued by telling Slade what happened, quoting everything the rich man said. 

Anger began to simmer in him, giving him the energy to properly sit up. He imagined it was Wally, not Deathstroke who was listening to him. As attractive as Slade was, he killed people. Wally didn’t kill people. That made him better, didn’t it? 

Slade stood up and laughed, but it was stiff. “So what? Word got out that you want a sugar daddy. Isn’t that a good thing, Dick? Maybe you’ll actually get one.” There was no sign of judgement in his tone.

Dick blushed and stuttered. “What? This isn’t about-- I don’t want-- There’s no ‘word’ going around about anything. It’s about how he talked about sex in front of a ten year old.”  _ A ten year old who I often think of as my kid, even though he’s my little brother,  _ Dick thought.

“So you’re mad at yourself for letting him near Damian, and for letting yourself get turned on, like you are right now?” Slade had left the side of the couch and was now looking through the fridge. 

Dick didn’t answer him for a while, and he didn’t push it. After a couple of minutes, he finally whispered “A bit.” 

Slade took a yogurt out of the fridge and went quiet as he ate it. Not that he was having an easy time processing the situation in general, but Dick could barely believe his eyes. Deathstroke was in his safehouse, doing something normal. He liked yogurt. Wally liked yogurt. It was a normal thing to like. Dick had partially believed he would only like eating eyeballs and inorganic materials, like something that wasn’t human. 

He noticed his expression change. He still looked concerned, but there were hints of anger all over his face.  _ Shit, _ he thought. He had this all wrong. Slade was going to get angry and kill him. 

He put the yogurt down and looked at him. “I could kill him.” 

At those words, any suspicion he still had that Slade wanted to kill him vanished. However, his statement confused the shit out of him. “What? You think I’m going to hire you, pay you to kill someone? I’m the one that stops you from doing things like that. ”

“No, there’s no need to pay me. I’d do it for you.” He answered, sitting down on the couch next to him. “And for me. I don’t like him much.” Dick looked at him for the first time since he sat up. While his eyes had been wandering around the room, doing everything they could to avoid Slade and his body, the older man had been looking at him the whole time. “Especially since he wanted to fuck you. I hate other people who want to fuck you.” He was practically growling. 

Dick made a sound higher than he thought was possible. The thick muscles on Slade’s arms suddenly seemed even bigger. He was looking at him in a way that made him feel like he could cum in his pants, and the thought of humiliating himself in front of him only made his cock harder. 

Slade’s hand cupped his face, his thumb sliding across his face and brushing his lips. “You shouldn’t be upset with yourself, Dick.” He paused. “Besides the part where you let yourself get turned on. That was very, very naughty.” 

Dick let himself go; he let go of being a hero, and he let go of his confusion at the situation. He smiled into Slade’s hand. “I’ll let you spank me if you don’t tell anyone I fainted.” 

Before he got the chance to figure out he really said that out loud, Slade was sitting on the couch and Dick was lying over his lap. Then he felt a rough strike to his ass. It wasn’t enough to hurt him through his jeans, but it definitely didn’t do anything to bring his arousal down. 

Slade lifted Dick’s legs up and pulled his jeans and boxers off in one shot. He passed his hands over Dick’s naked ass, squeezing it and rubbing it in a way that made Dick moan. “You have such a pretty ass, the most firm and beautiful one I’ve ever seen.” 

With the loss of his pants, he could feel Slade’s hard-on against his side. He desperately wanted to rub himself against him but Slade held him still and gave him the first spanking he ever received. 

After the first five it began to hurt. After the first ten he let out an “ow!”

Slade didn’t stop. Dick didn’t tell him to stop. “Why don’t we think about something that will take your mind off the pain?” His voice was low, calm, and extremely sexy.

“Hnnhggh.” Dick whined. 

Slade let out a small laugh. “Tell me about how you want a sugar daddy.”

“I… I-” He shifted so he could watch Slade’s hand come down on his skin. “I don’t want a sugar daddy.”

“Come on Dick. I know you do. Don’t be like that with me.” The next slap came down twice as hard as the previous one. 

“I don’t, I swear. I-” He grabbed Slade’s hand and pushed it against the back of the couch, giving him enough time to maneuver himself so that he was straddling Slade’s lap. “I don’t, Slade. I just want you.” 

That was the end of both of their self control. The next thing he knew, Slade was holding him up with one arm and pulling down his pants with the other. He brought them back to the same position as before and tore Dick’s shirt off. He held on to Slade’s shoulders as he felt two hands run down the crack of his ass and pull his cheeks open. 

Dick let go and his hands grabbed their cocks. He was about to start jerking them when Slade’s finger pushed on his asshole. That was enough to bring him to an orgasm with a long and loud “oh fuck…” His body fell against Slade’s.

“Oh, Dick. If you had more self control I could’ve fucked you. Would you have liked that?” Slade’s hand was jerking his own cock now. 

“Yes, I would have.” Dick breathed into his ear, still trying to catch his breath.

“Really? Tell me.” 

Dick smiled and fought down a laugh. He brought out the sexiest voice he had and said; “Yes, I would have liked to be fucked by your big dick, Daddy.” 

Slade came. Dick kissed him. Slade kissed him back. 

As he sat in Slade’s lap - happy, satisfied and covered in both of their come - all he could think to say was “You’re the one with the Daddy kink.”

  
  
  


The next week, Dick arrested David James in his day job as a cop. He was charged with rape. 

After his trial, the charges were dropped. 

Another week after his trial, his murder was reported. Dick refused to take the case. 

Of course, it could be Jason who killed him. He was definitely the type of person who his brother wouldn’t hesitate to wipe off the face of the Earth. 

But Dick knew it wasn’t him. The murder weapon appeared to be a sword, not a gun. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> lol that sex scene was so embarrassing. I might continue this because I have a lot of ideas for it, but it won't be for a while.
> 
> Please leave kudos & let me know what you guys think!


End file.
